Forgive me for stating the obvious, but the world is made up of all kinds of people.
I wondered if she was trying to convey something to me, something she could not put into words – something prior to words that she could not grasp within herself and which therefore had no hope of ever turning into words.
Something inside me had dropped away, and nothing came in to fill the cavern.
Those were strange days, now that I look back at them. In the midst of life, everything revolved around death.
Time is too conceptual. Not that it stops us from filling it in. So much so, we can’t even tell whether our experiences belong to time or to the world of physical things.
When microorganisms die, they make oil; when huge timbers fall, they make coal. But everything here was pure, unadulterated rubbish that didn’t make anything. Where does a busted videodeck get you?
I guess I felt attached to my weakness. My pain and suffering too. Summer light, the smell of a breeze, the sound of cicadas – if I like these things, why should I apologize?
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. But it was not until much later that I was able to get any real sleep. In a place far away from anyone or anywhere, I drifted off for a moment.
Where I went in my travels, it’s impossible for me to recall. I remember the sights and sounds and smells clearly enough, but the names of the towns are gone, as well as any sense of the order in which I traveled from place to place.
Love and used Subarus were two different things. Weren’t they?
Thanks to the long days of rain, the blades of grass glowed with a deep-green luster, and they gave off the smell of wildness unique to things that sink their roots into the earth.
Time expands, then contracts, all in tune with the stirrings of the heart.
The others in the dorm thought I wanted to be a writer, because I was always alone with a book, but I had no such ambition. There was nothing I wanted to be.
In his own way, he’s lived life with all the intensity he could muster.
Life: I’ll never understand it.
Artists are those who can evade the verbose.
If you think God’s there, He is. If you don’t, He isn’t. And if that’s what God’s like, I wouldn’t worry about it.
I don’t know what it means to live.
Everything, everything seemed once-upon-a-time.
Our responsibility begins with our imagination.